Right As Rain
by rainjewel
Summary: CATS fic. This is what spews forth from my fingers after watching the video 43 times a day. I don't think that's actually possible, but I sure tried. Looks at what might have happened after the ball. Slash.


****

Right As Rain

By: rainjewel

****

Disclaimer: I do not own CATS. Duh.

****

Author's Note: Well, this is what happens when I get bored. I drink too much sugary stuff and my brain commences to rot. I have watched the CATS video roughly every other day and it has taken its toll. I blame all the typos on my kitten Hilde, who is currently walking all over the keyboard. Good thing she's such a cutie. 

Important note—when you read this piece DO NOT picture these characters as if they are actual cats, or the descriptions will not make sense. The thing I most love about CATS is how the kitties haven't been turned into pussycats and made all cutesy. They're performers. Keep in mind though I am writing from a cat's point of view, not an actor's. I have tried to keep their movements like dancers, their stories like those of cats. *grins* Besides, who doesn't like buff boys running amok in skin-tight bodysuits?

****

Rated: PG-13

__

Contains Heterosexual and Homosexual Relationships. Proceed to Read at Your Own Risk.

-----@ MISTOFFOLEES @-----

Victoria snores when she sleeps. I think it's hilarious. She's easily the daintiest cat around, all grace and fluidity in her movements, but she snores like a bear. Whenever I look upon her while she's fast asleep, I always get the image of a roaring cotton ball stuck in my brain. Sometimes I wonder if I snore as loudly as she does. We share almost all of the same traits, save appearance and gender. We're one of the closest related kittens of Deuteronomy's tribe, having the same mother, which is a rarity. The only other pair like that is Bombalurina and Demeter. 

Argh…for some reason tonight it's really hard to ignore Victoria's snoring. Jeez, I don't even understand how she can sleep! I can still feel the fire coursing through my veins from the Jellicle Ball. My adrenaline has never been quite so high. My feelings are all muddled and confused from the flurry of emotions that's stormed through my heart tonight. Tonight is the beginning of a very different life for me. A lot of things have changed.

I shiver and sit up, unable to lie down anymore. Cassandra, the bane of my existence, mumbles as I shift beside her. I suppose I'm being rather harsh, but she's followed me around ever since I conjured up her lost perfume. She's a lot older than I am, but Vic says she's had a crush on me forever. Frightening thought, but I can't find it in myself to be angry with her, at least not to her face. I am forever trying to be nice to everyone. 

I feel restless. The moon is still shining down and dawn is no where in sight. Most of the cats are still here, but all of them seem to be asleep while I'm left trying to hold onto the last of the magic of the Jellicle Ball. Everyone is cuddled up together and for the first time I'm near the middle. That's odd…I'm usually one of the outcasts. Not everyone thinks magic is a great thing.

It seems as if I have gained a new position in the tribe. By bringing Old Deuteronomy back I was instantly thrown up on the pedestal of notoriety with the likes of Rum Tum Tugger and Jellylorum. I find myself surrounded by people who have subtly ignored me throughout the years and respected by all. I'm no longer the detached yet nice young tom who is rumored to practice weird arts. I'm now the marvelous "Mr. Mistoffolees, the Original Conjuring Cat."

I suppose that if anything is welcomed by The Rum Tum Tugger it is immediately accepted by everyone else. The same goes with Munkustrap and to an extent, Bombalurina. Now all I can do is pray that I never fail in the eyes of the tribe, now that I'm all sparkling and wondrous. Their expectations are high, and I'm tragically inadequate. My talent for magic is far from being perfected. To tell you the truth I'm feeling rather terrified.

What if…what if Macavity comes back? What is the great magical Mr. Mistoffolees going to be able to do about it then? I can't fight him. If Munkustrap couldn't even beat him then what am I supposed to do?

I wish I could be more like Munkustrap. He's always watched over the tribe with unwavering bravery and caring eyes. He always has a smile and a pet for everyone. He's one of the youngest of the older cats, yet he's the undeniable leader. No one knows of his background, though as with all of the older cats he must be the son of Old Deuteronomy. 

I must admit, I idolize him. He fascinates me. I don't understand how someone so warm and caring can remain so aloof and still be loved by all. I want to know how he has become so wise and what he thinks about during nights likes these. I wonder who he'll pick for a mate, since he seems totally uninterested in every girl that comes his way. I know Demeter is very interested him…but she was also one of Macavity's old tagalongs.

Munkustrap was the only one who didn't acknowledge me when I brought Old Deuteronomy back. He offered a bland smile in my direction. His smiles seem false, though his care is genuine. 

I want to know why his indifference towards me stung a thousand times stronger than any other insult I've ever been thrown. I want to know why I've always felt such a pull towards him.

Silently I stand up. A soft buzz courses through my veins—why do I feel so…so bold? Taking great care I leap up over the twisted bodies of my slumbering friends. I wonder where Munkustrap is; I want to talk to him. I don't know what about, but I'm sure he will. He always does.

A faint sound and light silver gleam make me flinch. Crouching low, I scold myself. If I'm not careful I could become quite the scaredy-cat. Ha ha. Ducking into the junkyard shadows, I look for the source of the distraction.

Munkustrap.

Of course, I think to myself. Ever watchful and rarely caught asleep, is our fearless leader. His silver striped coat glimmers in the moonlight as he slinks along the ground. However, his usual steady manner of walking seems jagged and syncopated.

Could it be that he is limping?

With a groan probably heard by my ears alone, he jumps to the top of the tire. For the first time I see that Old Deuteronomy is gone again. Perhaps that's where Munkustrap has been. I smile slightly—if only I could have an escort to my home as well.

My smile quickly turns to a frown. Munkustrap shouldn't be walking around with a limp! What's he doing anyway? Quickly I make my way over to the trunk of the car, using only a bit of magic to keep me from view. 

My breath catches in my throat. 

There, bathed in moonlight, lies Munkustrap. He lies on his side, head resting on his paws, body draped across the tire. His muscles ripple as he lies there, a sure sign that he's on his guard. His eyes are wide and his face is intense as he stares past the border of our junkyard—A sentry at his post.

And then a thought occurs to me: I find him to be the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on.

Why does that frighten me beyond any other terror I've ever encountered?

****

~*~ MUNKUSTRAP ~*~

I am going to _kill_ Macavity. I don't care if he is my brother; I am absolutely going to rip him to shreds! Blood may be thicker than water—but I will gladly make an exception to this rule. No more pulling my punches and pussyfooting around. I swear to the Jellicle Moon that he won't live to see another one. He can beat on me all he wants, but there is no way in _hell_ I am going to let him touch any of my tribe. 

Though, seeing as how I was an absolute failure tonight I don't know how I'm going to go about it. I used to be able to fill this lofty position—at least on a superficial level. Down deep, I've always known I fall short of meeting the necessary requirements. Next in line to become the Jellicle Leader? For the sake of cats everywhere, I better die before Old Deuteronomy or the entire Jellicle line is going to be at risk.

"Yo."

Barely containing a surprised hiss, I take a deep breath and close my eyes. "You shouldn't sneak up on me like that."

A familiar shadow settles beside me, smelling pleasantly of catnip. I open my eyes, but feel no need to sit up. 

"Yeah, but when you're as sexy as I am you get away with quite a bit."

I roll my eyes. "Ah, the mighty Rum Tum Tugger, modest as always."

Tugger gives me a playful swat. Growling at him, I finally sit up. Rum Tum Tugger is looking out past the junkyard, leaning back on a propped up elbow, the other resting on his knee. I love how he can always look so lackadaisical and graceful at the same time.

He turns towards me with a toothy grin. "Nice show you put on with Jennyanydots. Very impressive."

"Oh don't remind me," I say with a groan. "She's my aunt for crying out loud. It's rather sick, the way she fancies me. This'll keep her off my back until next year. Besides, don't think I didn't see how you were playing up to the older ladies!"

Tugger gives me another grin. "What are you talking about? I have a keen interest in Jellylorum!"

I can't help but laugh. Rum Tum Tugger is probably the only person who I talk to without superficiality. For all my supposed seriousness, everyone knows I have a fun-loving side that Rum Tum Tugger seems to be able seek out and exploit. Though, I don't think I'll be going on any late night romps tonight. 

"So," Tugger continues, brushing some imaginary dust off of his knee, "How's the Ol' D?"

"Shaken up," I reply, looking away._ Shaken up because he was captured by my psychotic brother, shaken up because I couldn't protect him, shaken up because he realized that his protégé is nothing more than a second rate washout. _

Rum Tum Tugger nods. "That's understandable. Macavity is not a cat to cross. Good thing that Mistoffolees was around…to tell the truth I was surprised he managed to pull it off."

Hn. Speaking of protégés…ah, Mistoffolees. The child wonder who everyone has always been a little wary of. He's perhaps the most remote cat I've ever met, but he still runs with the other kittens and takes part in all their antics. Certainly an interesting Jellicle, that one. He's charming and sincere in everything he does—everything he says bleeds truth and comes from his heart. I suppose that's what makes him such an irresistible innocent.

Tugger is waving a paw in front of my face, obviously trying to get my attention. I want to catch it and pounce on him, but I'm too damn sore. 

"Tugger?" I ask.

"He speaks!"

"Bite me."

Sharp nip to the shoulder. Note to self—do not make remarks around Rum Tum Tugger that could be taken literally and end up with painful results.

"What is it, Munksy? You've lost your smile."

Good. I smile too often and for all the wrong reasons. I give Tugger what I know to be my serious look. "I don't…I…I don't think I'm cut out for this job."

Rum Tum Tugger raises an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm a failure, Tugger," I say, wincing at how wretched my voice sounds. "I'm a terrible leader. I've failed the tribe."

"That is easily the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say," he responds. His voice hurts with its insignificant tone. 

"I couldn't beat him, Rumsy," I say, using my old nickname for him from when we were kits. "I was beaten by my own brother."

There, I've said it out in the open. I've never told a single soul about my relation to Macavity, except to Rum Tum Tugger. I told him after he'd caught me in an alley with Macavity. Our mother had passed away, and I had felt he should know. My brother may never be at a crime scene, but he usually comes when I call. At least, he used to.

Tugger's eyes spark at my words. He reaches out with a paw and rubs my shoulder. I hiss through my teeth—it's sore there. "You're brother is a psychopath, Munksy, and the crazy usually win, for they've already lost all that was."

"Nice sentence, but that's the problem—he's not crazy. He's as sane and cool as a cucumber. Macavity merely likes the pain. He's a sadistic, twisted genius," I reply. Another one of my demons sits up. Might as well have a masochistic bashing fest. "And what of Grizabella? How many years have I shunned her when I should have known better?"

"We all did," Rum Tum Tugger says softly.

"Except for Deuteronomy and the kittens. The kittens, the ones who I am supposed to guide, the leader who I'm supposed to replace, all knew better than I did!"

I look at Rum Tum Tugger's eyes. He has nothing to say to that, and we both know it. He drops his hand.

"Munkustrap, you are trying to carry the whole world on your shoulders. Stop being so hard on yourself, or you're going to get nowhere. A Jellicle leader, or just a plain leader, can't always be doubting themselves," Tugger says. 

"Great. Another problem to add to my stash," I say dejectedly. Rum Tum Tugger pulls one of my ears and shakes his head. There's a gleam in his eye that means trouble. But unlike my brother's, it's a nice kind of trouble.

"You know what you need?" He begins. I feel the corner of my lips twitching. This is always how it starts.

"A serious blow to the head?" I supply. Not my usual fare, but I'm not feeling up to par.

"Well…that's one way to put it."  


I smile, not meaning too. "You're very, very disgusting."

Rum Tum Tugger's eyebrows are waggling. "Demeter gave you a good nuzzle tonight. Why don't you hook up with her?"

I roll my eyes. Feeling sick and knowing it's not funny at all, I begin to laugh. Tugger's smooth chuckling comes in a bit later. It's an old joke between us. We both know I've never been one for girls.

It's another one of those hidden failures. 

****

-----@ MISTOFFOLEES @-----

I am shell-shocked. An overload of information is coursing through my head and for all my "cleverness" I'm not making one bit of sense from it.

Macavity is the brother of Munkustrap. Whoa. Goodness, who'd have ever thought?

Actually, I'm rather surprised by that entire conversation. I've always thought Rum Tum Tugger and Munkustrap were…well not enemies, but certainly not friends. More like rivals, I suppose. Their personalities would seem to clash, but it's apparent the two share a deep bond with each other. I never knew…I never knew a lot of things.

Munkustrap loathes himself. The world might as well be round (or was it flat?). the confident, magnificent cat I thought I understood has turned out to be something altogether different.

Oh…oh blast it! I wish I could march right over there and tell Munkustrap just how much of a wonderful leader he is! I want nothing more than to instill his old sense of leadership. He believes he's such a terrible cat but it's totally off the mark—how could our whole tribe fall in love with as horrible a Jellicle as he thinks himself to be?

Did I just use the term "fall in love?" I think I've gone 'round the bend.

Uh oh. It seems Rum Tum Tugger has said his final piece and is leaving. What was it he said just now? Something about trying some—oh my, I don't think I'll repeat that word. Rather vulgar and lecherous if you ask me. And why do I feel so annoyed when Rum Tum Tugger gave Munkustrap a parting nuzzle. Too many questions, too many new things. My head is spinning.

Rum Tum Tugger walks in my direction. Oh no! I hope he doesn't see me! Quickly I press myself into the shadows, but even I know I'm out of luck. Moonlit car tops are not that inconspicuous. 

As he passes by me, Rum Tum Tugger pauses. Argh. He crouches low, claws out. Obviously our streetwise Rum Tum Tugger has sensed something's wrong. This, I suppose, is my cue to come clean.

"Ready or not," Rum Tum Tugger begins, voice low and more dangerous than I've ever heard, "Here I—"

"Rum Tum Tugger," I say, stepping out into the light.

It seems I've stepped out a little too late. Rum Tum Tugger launches himself into the air right in my direction. I feel my eyes go wide and I hear a light mewling sound, then realize that it's coming from my open mouth. Rum Tum Tugger lands right in front of me, however, and I take a step back, a paw placed over my rapidly beating heart.

Rum Tum Tugger grins, white teeth glinting in the moonlight. Without warning, he reaches out and snags me about the waist. He gives me a squeeze that leaves me devoid of oxygen and thoroughly confused. Rum Tum Tugger is not one for hugs.

"You beautiful boy!" He exclaims, grinning down at me. I realize that my feet are dangling well above the trunk of the car. Obviously I must still look afraid and shocked half to death, for Rum Tum Tugger places me back down on the ground.

I take a few reeling steps back, and Rum Tum Tugger assumes a pose with his head cocked and hands on his silvery belt. Presto, his coolness has been restored and the world is somewhat normal again.

He cocks a finger at me. "Thanks for bringing the Big D back to us. Good job kid."

I blink once, irritated at the "kid" comment, but dismiss it because Rum Tum Tugger is Rum Tum Tugger. I bow low, regaining my composure.

"Thank you for believing in me. If it weren't for you I probably wouldn't have been permitted to work my magic," I say. I feel my cheeks flush. "I also apologize for calling you a bore."

"Yeah, well," Rum Tum Tugger says, placing a hand on my shoulder, "I'm sorry for kicking a soccer ball at your head."

I smile politely. "I dodged it."

Rum Tum Tugger looks at me as if I've suddenly grown two tails. Suddenly he throws his head back and begins to chuckle. He laughs for quite some time, though I can't seem to understand the joke.

"You dodged it!" he cackles, "Oh kid, you're too cute."

Irritating…very, very irritating. I may be small, but I am NO kid. 

Finally Rum Tum Tugger puts an end to his laughter, coughs, and regains his classic "cool" position. "So," he drawls, "What are you here for?"

I freeze. I can't tell him I was snooping! He'd kill me if he knew I overheard his entire conversation with Munkustrap! And I'm terrible at lying. With a glance towards Munkustrap that I know I shouldn't have taken, I look Rum Tum Tugger straight in the face and remain silent.

Rum Tum Tugger waggles his eyebrows. "Ah, you wanted to see my dear pal Munksy, that's it. Well, go ahead little one! See if you can't work a bit of magic on him—he's feeling rather low."

In one fluid motion, Rum Tum Tugger places a hand on my back and shoves. Hard. Before I can stop myself, I am half falling, half stumbling onto the tire where Munkustrap is sitting. Reacting quickly, I manage to regain my sense of balance and land in a low crouch, arms out. I mutter a quick hex and flutter my fingers—Rum Tum Tugger is going to be itching for a bit.

Munkustrap is standing above me, leaning backwards on powerful legs with his claws out. His face is hard and the glint in his eyes is foreign to me. I have never been on the receiving end of Munkustrap's hostility. He looks more dangerous than anything I've ever come across.

Munkustrap's arms drop. "Mistoffolees."

It sounds different when he says it.

****

~*~ MUNKUSTRAP ~*~

There are quite a few words that I have no use for or simply despise. Words that sound like yesterday's leftovers, such as behoove, esophagus, and catsup. It's called ketchup, people. Work with me. The sounds of words like fortitude, magnanimous, and plumber I also find irritating. There are also words whose meaning I dislike, such as massacre, mildew, and evil. And then there is the worst word of all: irony.

Irony seems to be the only word that can sum up my life. Most cats would love the status I have—it's a position of leadership and respect. Too bad I can hardly think for myself and on top of that I'm the brother of the most notorious criminal in Jellicle history.

I am supposed to be strong; I am weak. When I am called upon for wisdom I find I am little more than a fool. I am supposed to be the sire of generations of cats to come. Of course, I have to end up…the way I am.

And when I want nothing more than to be left alone to wallow in self-pity, who should come along but the cat who fulfills all of the qualities I'm supposed to have.

"Mistoffolees."

Don't look, don't look, don't look! Mistoffolees is undeniably irresistible—the most graceful of all cats, along with his sister Victoria. As the moonlight illuminates his lithe, crouching form, I find myself desperately trying not to let on just how beautiful I think he is.

"I apologize, Munkustrap. I didn't mean to startle you," he says, rising. He holds out a paw. Mistoffolees has one of the most charming smiles I've ever seen, and I find myself blinded by its radiance. Irresistible, simply irresistible. Don't look, Munkustrap!

I take his paw briefly and smile back because it's expected. "Perfectly all right."

Mistoffolees smiles again, this time his dark eyes glinting warmly. I find all his expressions quite endearing. He might be a little eccentric and very polite, but every thing he says and does is dipped in sincerity. He's very pure in the way that he's up front and unwaveringly honest, brutally so. 

Carefully, I resume my position on the tire, taking care not to wince at the discomfort it brings. Absently I think to myself how lucky I am it was Mistoffolees who stumbled onto my tire as opposed to an enemy—I almost couldn't stand up.

Mistoffolees lies down beside me, chin pillowed on his outstretched arms. I try not to think of how his hips are turned towards mine and our legs are almost touching. For awhile we lie in silence. I can't trust myself to say anything and Mistoffolees seems to be at a loss for words. He's always been a rather quiet cat. Together we watch the Great Rumpus Cat off in the distance, who is busy valiantly trying to catch his own tail.

I wonder why Mistoffolees is here. Victoria and him both live in a huge mansion on the other side of town and I thought they would have left a long time ago. He seems to have something to say, but all he's doing is staring out at the moon and shooting me glances every so often.

Trying to break the ice, I offer up a compliment. "It was a wonderful thing you did tonight, bringing Old Deuteronomy back. Thank you."

Mistoffolees looks at me with wide eyes, as if he can't believe I would say something like that. Could it be that he thinks I don't hold him in high regard?

"It was a wonderful thing _you_ did, fighting off Macavity. I thank _you_ for protecting the tribe," he replies.

Without meaning to, I look away and feel bitterness crawl through my veins. I wonder when I became so cynical and self-deprecating. Even up to tonight I was still my fun-loving, confident self. But then I was put to the test and I failed miserably. Mistoffolees passed with flying colors.

"Yes, well…" I say, looking at the Great Rumpus Cat, who falls over in pursuit of his tail, "I tried to protect us…however, it looks as if _you're_ the one who can save us."

Mistoffolees shakes his head at my comment. Suddenly, looking very shy and very young, he sits up and scoots over to where I'm lying. He bows his head and lightly nuzzles my neck. 

Damn it. 

I slit my eyes and take a deep breath. I shouldn't feel this way—it's wrong. I'm supposed to take care of Mistoffolees. I should get the shivers from someone my own age (not to mention the opposite gender), like Demeter.

"You are my leader," Mistoffolees whispers, "And I will always follow _you_."

In another carefully planned motion, I sit up, facing Mistoffolees so that we are both resting on our knees. Knowing I shouldn't, but feeling helplessly overcome, I reach out and run a paw down his pale cheek. There's more in that simple touch than his innocence will recognize, and I'm thankful for it.

Mistoffolees smiles at the motion and I feel him tremble slightly. That's something of an eyebrow raiser, but I'd better not get my hopes up.

"You're a—" My words are suddenly cut off when a screaming pain runs through my body, spreading outward from my lungs. With a wince and an almost suppressed groan, I instinctively wrap both of my arms around my stomach, as if I can hold the pain in.

Of course, I had to finally lose control of the pain in front of the Magical Mr. Mistoffolees.

Mistoffolees is instantly in a concerned crouch, arms outstretched. "I could help you with the injuries. I can lessen the pain."

"What are you talking about? I'm as right as rain," I reply. I feel like the pain is some kind of penance.

Mistoffolees looks adorably annoyed. "Look, if you're not in top condition…then who'll prot-ah, then what…oh blast it. Everything I'm trying to say is coming out wrong!"

Word of the evening: irresistible.

"Or just plain confusing," I offer. Mistoffolees' eyebrows shoot up a bit, but he looks slightly appeased.

"I don't like to see you in pain," He whispers softly, as if confessing a dark secret.

For some reason that fact reaches down to the depths of my soul and warms me. A slight reminder that I am in fact cared for, despite my horrid actions this night. Mistoffolees actually looks pained, an expression that I never wanted to see.

I drop my paws to my side. "All right. What are you going to do?"

****

-----@ MISTOFFOLEES @-----

There is a trick to magic—never doubt yourself. If you're not confident in your skills, than your magic will never be up to par. You must always think that you can accomplish anything and put two hundred percent into the task.

This is perhaps why I am viewed as a snot—a cat who thinks he's better than everyone else. That is far from the truth. I know I'm as average as any other Jellicle out there, but I also know what I'm good at. I know what I can and cannot do—if something is beyond me, I don't do it. I have never suffered from stage fright or the fear of rejection because I lack the skill level. 

At least, until now. I'm terrified of what I'm going to do to Munkustrap.

First off, I'm not a healer. I know a handful of healing spells but I've never been tested on them. I'm a trickster, if my magic must be categorized. I do the flashy stuff.

So, in a situation where I should have done nothing, I've opened my mouth and proceeded to act like an idiot. So here goes, I guess. I can do this…I think.

"All right. What are you going to do?"

I look up at Munkustrap, see the corralled pain in his eyes. I feel a surge of confidence.

"I am, essentially, going to put you back together. I'll take the pain away and mend your injuries. However," I feel my eyes narrow and expression grow serious, "Healing isn't my specialty."

"Neither is recovering kidnapped Jellicle leaders, but that didn't seem to bother you," Munkustrap observes. "So, is that all?"

"I'm simply going to heal you," I reply. I'm not going to tell him that healing spells are generally done by much older, advanced magical cats, and if a spell is not done by a true healer, it will render the individual weak beyond imagination and helpless. Nor am I going to tell him that I will be taking on his pain, placing his agony upon myself. I trust Munkustrap and care enough about him to do this. And if Macavity does return to punish me for recovering Old Deuteronomy, Munkustrap can deal with him more effectively than I could ever dream of.

Munkustrap doesn't waste a second. "Okay. Tell me what I have to do."

"Lay down on your back," I reply, sounding suprisingly sure of myself. Inside I'm shaking like a leaf, partly because of the great taboo I've just made—younger cats don't tell their elders to lie on their backs before them, and partly because…I don't actually know why.

Munkustrap lowers himself to the tire without a word. We both know that such a submissive gesture is a sign of vulnerability and surrender; Munkustrap has chosen not to point this out, or he simply doesn't care.

"Where are you hurt?" I ask softly. I shift my feet so that I am crouching low beside Munkustrap.

He looks thoughtful. "I would say bruised, perhaps cracked ribs, a sprained paw and a plethora of scratches."

"And maybe a broken leg," I ask with a chastising grin. I saw that limp.

Munkustrap's eyebrows knit together. "Nothing so serious. I'm still standing and walking around."

__

Even though you shouldn't, you big boob, I think to myself. All right. At least I know where I need to place my paws now. With deliberate movements I lightly place one paw on Munkustrap's chest and the other on his stomach while I drop to my knees. Munkustrap, forever unafraid, closes his eyes, as if this were no big deal.

Quietly I begin the chant, a string of magical words in a language I don't know and don't understand. I feel the magic begin to flow through my veins, peppery and pleasantly warm—it is a gift passed down through the ages, back to the years of the Sphinx. Few cats, I have learned, ever receive the gift and even fewer learn how to control it. This fact has never made me feel special—just frightened.

As the spell begins to work I immediately am hit with pain, ten times worse than I expected. God! How could he keep all this suffering inside for so long! I grit my teeth and tap into my resolve. Still, I feel my head bow low and sweat break across my brow as the magic continues.

I look up to Munkustrap, panting lightly at the intensity of the pain. His face is tilted up to the moon and his eyes are still shut. As I do I feel the slight tremble of his chest while his ribs heal and mend themselves. Good, that means that the spell's almost through.

Suddenly the pain ceases and Munkustrap's eyes flutter open. I feel myself pitching forward, but I can't seem to find my balance. A second later and I have collapsed, my head upon Munkustrap's stomach. I feel terribly weak, a sensation more frightening than I imagined. The pain begins to dull and fade, leaving me achy and shuddering. I realize I'm gasping for air like a fish out of water. 

Munkustrap sits up slightly, his muscles rippling under my face and paws. I try to rise, embarrassed, but I find that I all I can do is shake even more violently.

"Mistoffolees! Are you all right!" Munkustrap asks, his voice alarmed and horrified. On a positive note, he sounds better.

I nod against Munkustrap's stomach, then realize how stupid the action is. "I'm just a little tired. I guess bringing Old Deuteronomy back and doing healing spells is a little too much for me in one night."

Hmm…I kind of like lying here. For some reason that makes me shake harder.

Munkustrap is quiet for a moment, then he whispers, "It really hurt you, didn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" I reply, using Munkustrap's earlier words. "I'm as right as rain."

I force myself to stand, rising slowly and laboriously. As I do so, a sudden, strident sound cuts through the air. Instinctively I jump, but instead of finding my usual balance, I end up lurching forward. Immediately I realize that I'm falling over the side of the tire and looking over the sharp drop of the junkyard boundary.

My body steadies, my head still spins. I find a pair of arms around my waist, silver-striped and blessedly strong. Relief too strong a word, I close my eyes and try to recover from my swimming head. Munkustrap gently pulls me back from the edge of the tire.

"Trash can lid," he whispers in my ear. "The Great Rumpus Cat is fond of alleyway dinners."

My cheeks burn. "Oh."

Carefully Munkustrap lets go of my waist and takes my paw, slowly dropping into a sitting position. Well, his character crouch and me on my knees trying to shake the dizziness.

"You had me scared there for moment," he says.

I blink. "That's odd. I didn't think you were scared of anything."

Munkustrap grins. "I'm scared of a lot of things. Just don't tell anyone."

I smile. I'm kind of upset that he let go of me. It was nice to be held. 

"Are you scared of anything, Mistoffolees?" His tone leads me to believe that he means more than he says. Munkustrap does not usually partake in personal conversations unless he has good reason.

I shrug. "Not while you're here."

Munkustrap takes a deep breath and absently licks his paw. He leans forward, dropping to his knees and front paws. He looks straight at me with deep brown eyes.

"But what if I'm the one you should be afraid of?" he whispers. With a flash of insight, I realize that he looks at me like Cassandra does. And that means…

I raise my eyebrows. It's as if I've been putting a jigsaw puzzle together in the dark, and now someone's found the light switch. Munkustrap was laughing at Rum Tum Tugger's comment because of it impossibility! My, what terrible humor. Could it be…that Munkustrap is attracted…to me? 

And am I…attracted…to…him?

I turn away from him, trying to clear my thoughts. I prop myself on my right paw, the left resting on a bent knee with my other leg stretching out beside it. I don't mean to send Munkustrap the wrong message, but I know I have.

"Why…" I begin, then trail off, surprised by the lightness of my voice, "Why would I be afraid of you? As I said before, you are my leader and I trust you implicitly. I think I'd…I'd…"

Deep breath. I turn back around and meet Munkustrap's neutral expression.

"…I believe I'd die for you." 

I don't mean to be dramatic—I rarely ever do. Sincerity is my trademark and curse.

Munkustrap raises an eyebrow and smiles, that hated, fake smile he wears too often and is no longer genuine.

"As your leader, Mistoffolees?"

I pause. This is dangerous ground we're treading on. Something tells me that this goes against _all_ the rules, but I've never been too much for the stuffy structure of the ol' rule book anyway. I've realized what I want. I know why I was so moved when Munkustrap fought off Macavity, the happiness I feel whenever Munkustrap gathers the younger cats near, and I finally understand why I could barely keep my eyes off him during the Jellicle Ball.

The night is still. Munkustrap hasn't moved, his head cocked to one side and that smile still in place. Carefully, testing out my balance (Delightful! It's returned!), I crawl over to where Munkustrap is crouched.

I feel naughty, seductive. The way Victoria acts while she's preparing to go out caterwauling with Pouncival. It's rather exhilarating.

"As my leader…" I whisper, looking up at Munkustrap. I reach out and slide an arm up his chest, grabbing onto his shoulder, rising as I do so. My lips find the nape of his neck and I give it a small bite. "…And as something more." 

Almost immediately, electrifyingly so, his arms are around my waist and he is sinking, pulling me down with him until he is sitting with me curled in his lap, my face buried in his neck. Suddenly my nerve fails me and I have turn away. Munkustrap keeps his arms around my body as I turn in his grip, until my back is against his chest, my head on his shoulder. I feel myself blush and feel incredibly stupid. Content, but stupid.

Munkustrap's paw trails its way down my chest and stomach, causing me to close my eyes and will myself not to collapse into a small black puddle.

"You," Munkustrap whispers in my ear, breath sweet and touch even sweeter, "Are a magic unto yourself."

Well what can I say to that? Absolutely nothing. 

So instead I turn my head and kiss Munkustrap full on the mouth.

****

~*~ MUNKUSTRAP ~*~

I love him. I absolutely love him.

Damn it.

Oh my god, this _cannot_ be happening. In the name of everything holy, this _cannot_ be Mistoffolees kissing me on the mouth right now. No way, Jose. 

Did I actually just say what I thought I said? Did I just pull this beautiful creature into my lap? Dear god, what kind of lecher am I? What is wrong with me?

Moaning and gasping at the same time, Battling for self-control, I gently catch Mistoffolees by his graceful little shoulders and fend off another kiss. My will power wins, and I'm left staring into the flushed face of Mistoffolees, his lips swollen and his eyes starry. This, my friends, is how you define a hollow victory.

"I'm sorry," I say, dropping my arms. I look away as if it will help with the pain. "I'm not supposed to do this."

Mistoffolees sits back on his haunches, pouting and looking thoughtful all at once. Hmm…seems I should contact Webster; may I introduce the definition of seduction.

He leans in, resting his paws on my thighs. He gives a tiny smile as if to say Everything's okay! and then his face grows serious again.

"Why do you feel so guilty?" He asks.

I'm surprised. I didn't expect that. "I…about what?" 

"Everything," Mistoffolees says cryptically. "I overheard you talking with Rum Tum Tugger. You blame yourself for the misfortune with Old Deuteronomy and feel culpable for the deplorable treatment of Grizabella."

My god. I've always loved the way Mistoffolees never beats around the bush and his extremely precise manner of speaking. Now I'm beginning to understand why some cats don't deal well with his brutal honesty. I, for one, wouldn't change it for the world.

"I should have realized the mistake I was making by shunning Grizabella for all those years. I'm responsible for making her life a living hell," I reply, not pleased about the subject matter, but at the same time feeling relieved because it's out in the open. "And as for Old Deuteronomy, I'm his protector, the cat responsible for the welfare of every single Jellicle in this tribe. If you hadn't noticed, I didn't do very well tonight."

"You are _not _responsible for the way everyone acted towards Grizabella. All of the older cats disliked her long before you rose to the top."

I look down. "I should have known better. I'm supposed to be wise."

"You _are_ wise. You do most of the thinking for the tribe and we're flourishing," Mistoffolees replies. He looks to the side. "And as for Old Deuteronomy…you're up against the worst possible enemy."

"Macavity and…"

"You're brothers," Mistoffolees says. His white cheeks pink a bit. "I heard about that too. Macavity knows all of your moves, all your weak spots. And on top of that he can cast spells."

I shift my weight a bit, feeling absolutely terrible. "Exactly. I'm utterly useless."

Mistoffolees shakes his head. "Everyone was useless against him, individually. The entire tribe must work together in order to defeat him! There's no need for you to fight him by yourself. Even so, I'm sure you can win, for you know all his weaknesses as well, but there's no reason for it."

I hate to admit it, but I'm feeling better. I'll never forgive myself for Grizabella, but I find my confidence slowly piecing itself back together. Next time Macavity comes around, I'm not going to hold back.

"But both of those reasons aren't why you feel so guilty about…this, is it?" Mistoffolees whispers, looking deep into my eyes. 

I blink, and realize he's right. "No."

"You feel as if you're taking advantage of me, don't you?" Mistoffolees asks, sounding kind of surprised at the notion himself.

I don't speak, merely nod.

Mistoffolees bristles before my eyes. He suddenly jumps slightly back, then stands up to his full height. "I am _not_ a kitten!"

His age is definitely not one of his favorite subjects, I take it. I actually don't know how old he really is, but I know he's younger than I am. More than he should be, but that's not really the problem.

Slowly I rise to my feet, holding his gaze until I'm looking down on his stubborn white face. My god, he's utterly beautiful. My expression, I know, is perfectly neutral.

"I am the tribe's protector," I say, looking down on Mistoffolees. "I am responsible for everyone, including you, kitten or not."

Mistoffolees' features soften. "Then protect me tonight."

I shake my head. Mistoffolees hates to assume weak roles, yet he just willingly stepped into one. I know the price of his sacrifice to his pride.

"You don't need my protection," I reply. "You don't need anything from me, and I can't give you a thing. I have to place duty before my own personal wants."

"It's your duty to be happy," Mistoffolees says softly. Fear creeps into his tone. "And as for needing your protection, Macavity is going to kill me." 

I freeze. I always knew I was going to have to cross my brother. "I can't help you."

Mistoffolees rubs his face with a paw. "I don't want your help! I want…I want to be loved, not cared for and indulged!"

I look to the side. I have never felt this much pain in my life.

"I…I…wish I could," I whisper. "But it's not possible."  


Mistoffolees crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Why not?"

I stare at him—as if he doesn't understand why we can't do this. He might be able to soothe my doubts regarding Grizabella and Old Deuteronomy, but not this. It's too great a sin. 

"My god, you're planning on following exactly in Old Deuteronomy's footsteps, aren't you?" Mistoffolees whispers as the silence grows between us. 

"That's what has been expected," I reply. 

"That's insane!" Mistoffolees exclaims.

"What?"

"You're thinking that you have to be the sire to all of the future Jellicles, aren't you! Munkustrap, that's…well…stupid! First off, no one in the tribe is expecting that of you, and second, there are tons of other guys that aren't going to let it happen!" Mistoffolees says. He drops to his knees and sighs. I forget that he's still tired.

"It's unnatural," I reply, stubborn. I would like to believe what he's saying, but it sounds a little too good to be true, a little too simple.

"What is unnatural about loving someone?" he says, looking up at me.

I open my mouth to reply, but then realize I don't have an answer.

****

-----@ MISTOFFOLEES @-----

Talking to Munkustrap is like dealing with two completely different cats. Now that I've finally gotten past the self-assured, caring protector image I've grown accustomed to, I have stumbled upon a broken soul. And now I'm trying to get back to that first personality, the one I know is the true Munkustrap—well, the happy Munkustrap. I don't doubt the authenticity of his suffering. I suppose that when the Great fall, they fall hard and grieve unlike anything I can fathom.

Currently, Munkustrap is staring down at me, mouth open. I know that he's processing the arguments I've given him. I know my responses were simple, but so are the solutions to his problems. He's been laboring under an illusion—the tribe doesn't want another Old Deuteronomy. Even if they did, there would be no way he could ever become a carbon copy of our great leader. 

Munkustrap's only real problem is that he doesn't realize that the tribe will love and follow him no matter what. Everyone's at fault for Grizabella's plight and no one holds it against Munkustrap that Macavity got his paws on Old Deuteronomy.

Grr! Why can't he see it? Perhaps he already does, but he just is having trouble accepting it.

I reach up and take his paw in mine. Gently, but with quiet demand I pull him down until he sits. He is staring straight ahead, but in a thoughtful way. That mischievous, wanton feeling rises up again and I decide to get downright audacious. Without another thought I cuddle up close to Munkustrap, curling in his lap with my head against his chest.

"As far back as I can remember, there have been two constants in my life," I whisper, not quite sure if Munkustrap is paying attention. "First, it could always be counted on that the other cats would subtly shun me for dabbling in magic, second, I always knew that you never gave it another thought. You understand everyone, Munkustrap. You can judge the character of an individual in the blink of an eye and you're never wrong."

"Except with Grizabella," he whispers.

"Was she perfect? Did she not do horrible things? I'm not saying what we did to her was deserved, but she was far from angelic," I reply. "Besides, it's all been said and done. Let it go, and think on the present."

"I am so damn confused I don't know even know what the present _is_ anymore," Munkustrap replies. He shifts a bit beneath me, but doesn't move away.

"The present is concerned with making sure you're going to be happy. It is hoping you are only thinking of what would be the best for you—following your heart and forgiving yourself, most importantly. In the present, you are sitting with a cat who is…is very much…is very much in love with you." My voice has gotten softer as the speech comes to an end.

Silence. Munkustrap is still as stone.

I hold my breath. When I realized that this night was a turning point for my life, I obviously had no idea as to the multitude that it possesses. 

Munkustrap's soft voice cuts through the air like a knife. 

"I understand."

Immediately Munkustrap's arms are around me, his lips on the top of my head. I don't think I've ever felt safer or happier. Tilting my head up to the sky I catch his mouth with my own. Dear god, it's a wonderful thing to be kissed.

I sit up in his lap and cup his face with my paws. "You're okay now?"

Munkustrap smiles, and this time it seems sincere. "Yes."

I smile back, the corners of my lips reaching my ears. 

"Where did you learn to argue like that?" Munkustrap replies, his voice sounding confident and normal for the first time. "Jeez, you could convince me the world is flat…or is it round?" 

I giggle. "I can never remember either!" 

Munkustrap laughs too, scratching his head. "What a night. You must think I'm the biggest moron that ever lived."

"Absolutely not," I say. "You know what I said about you understanding everyone? I was wrong. You understand everyone but yourself."

"Isn't everyone like that?" Munkustrap asks. He kisses me again. I might just die happy right here.

I think on it. "Yes."

Munkustrap grows still beneath me. "Macavity will want you dead."

"Do you think he'd really do it? Murder is a far cry from theft," I whisper. I bury my face and paws into the warm feel of Munkustrap's chest. Finally, now that all the adrenaline has warn off, I'm beginning to feel the exhaustion. Funny—you'd think I'd want to stay awake to hear about my own demise.

"I don't know, Mistoffolees. But if he thinks for one instant he's going to lay his paws on you he's got another thing coming," Munkustrap says. "I'm not going to play down anymore."

That wakes me up a bit. "Play down?"

"I pull my punches, sometimes. I don't want to hurt him! But if he's going to come after the tribe…that's too far," Munkustrap explains.

I feel like hitting him. I sit up put my hands on my hips. "My god, you were so upset about not beating up Macavity and you were pulling your punches. Well, what did you expect, going into a fight with the thought of losing on your mind!"

"I knew you thought I was a moron."  


"Only when you act like one, jeez!"

"You're going to zap me with a lightening bolt, aren't you?"

"I just might! Shock some sense into you."

"You know, you're kinda cute when you're mad." 

"I might not be so cute when I'm turning purple with anger and on the brink of having an aneurysm!"

"An-yoo—what was that again?"

"ARGH!"

Munkustrap cracks up. I stare at him, holding the childish glare I've been giving him for the past couple of comments, but soon it breaks and I'm giggling like an idiot. For the first time, I feel right at home, accepted and totally content. I'm not surprised I've found my happiness in Munkustrap.

"So," Munkustrap says, pulling himself together, "So you're okay with this?"

"Bingo!" I reply. I bite my lower lip to keep from laughing.

Munkustrap smiles. "What about the other Jellicles?"

"I don't care," I reply. I'm serious—I don't. "Besides, I'm sure they'll all be glad that you're happy. That's what should matter."

"You know what?" Munkustrap stays, his voice kind of airy. 

"Yes, I am All Knowing and Wise," I reply. I look up at him with big eyes. "Can I sleep here?"

"Please do. I'd feel privileged, O Wise One," Munkustrap replies. "And I don't care how smart you think you are, you still don't know what I was going to say."

"Oh really," I say with mock arrogance, but it comes out kind of muffled. I'm falling asleep in Munkustrap's lap and I like it!

"Yes, really," Munkustrap says, his voice growing serious. "I want you to know that you make me feel complete. It's as if everything's…"

"…Right as rain?" I finish off. I can feel Munkustrap smiling.

"Yes, right as rain. How'd you figure that?"

"I'm All Knowing, remember."

"Don't make me tickle you."

"No, please. I'm too tired."

"Tell me!"

"Okay!" I sit up, lazily grinning at the gorgeous face of Munkustrap in front of me. Perhaps I'm already dreaming—but if that's the case whoever wakes me up is going to get zapped. I reach out and tap Munkustrap on the nose with a finger.

"Because I feel exactly the same way," I say, sounding remarkably like a drunkard. 

Munkustrap kisses me anyway. He's wonderful like that.

****

~*~ -----@ Finish @----- ~*~

rainjewel: So, whaddya think? Sequel? I have lotsa ideas about the world of CATS. 


End file.
